A Matter of When
by SandraDeee
Summary: Happiness was finally within their grasp.  Pure fluff.


**Author's Notes: **Be warned that this is a blatant fluff piece. In fact, it's so fluffy it's apt to give cotton a run for its money...if cotton had money. This is also a companion piece to "Thankful." However, it is not necessary to have read that story to understand this one.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**A Matter of When **

If Heather Lisinski had been a believer in fate, she might have thought fate was conspiring against her.

It began with a call from Mrs. Carmichael, who, at the last minute, asked Heather to spearhead the community Valentine's social at the high school (she should have said no). It continued with refereeing feuding volunteers who had different visions of what a post-apocalyptic Valentine's social should look like (she _really_ should have said no). Finally, it culminated in a series of last minute mishaps that resulted in her using her best, patient teacher voice to mask the fact that she was coming close to having a bona fide meltdown after dealing with a multitude of high-strung personalities (she _really_, really should have said no).

Still, all of that would have been okay had she just been able to spend more than five minutes with Jake. Not that it would've been enough, she realized, but it would at least have been a start.

It had been one obstacle after another, truly.

For starters, Jake had been reluctant to attend the social as her date. She knew that _technically_ his reluctance was not based on being her date. He just wasn't keen on large, community gatherings. Maybe it stemmed from the fact that he lived in a fishbowl—always had, first from being the mayor's son and now as sheriff—and consciously or subconsciously, everyone was always watching him. Maybe it was because he didn't like making small talk with people or answering nosy questions. Almost from the moment word had gotten around that he and Heather were a couple, he'd received unsolicited advice for how to "not let her get away this time." It had been a source of amusement for Heather, not so much for Jake.

When Heather had first mentioned the Valentine event to him, he'd been quiet. Too quiet. She had been chattering away about the preparations, realized she wasn't getting an answer from him, and looked at him, only to see a furrow in his brows. Recognizing this wasn't something he wanted to do, she tried to let him off the hook.

Still, Jake said he would take one for the team. _She_ was his team.

That, and he also he didn't want to give Harold Mittermeier a chance to woo her at the social. As Heather frequently reminded Jake, Harold was very charming and exceedingly spry for being eighty-two years "young".

On this particular night, Jake and Heather agreed to meet at the high school, as she would have to be there some time before the social was set to start. She was disappointed that she wouldn't get to just enjoy it fully as a sweethearts' night—complete with Jake picking her up at her house, driving her to the social, and walking in together, hand-in-hand—but making it a successful night for their town was important to her, and she figured that, as cheesy as it sounded, every day with Jake was like Valentine's Day.

When from across the crowded gymnasium Heather saw Jake arrive, she felt like a schoolgirl all over again, or perhaps even like the girl she was when she and Jake first met. Her knees wobbled a bit, despite her best efforts at maintaining control. Though she was comfortable with him and unequivocally crazy about him, she still reacted. Here was this man, this handsome, confident, smart man, and he was there at a social gathering that he didn't want to attend just for her.

He gave her butterflies.

He gave her smiles.

He gave her his heart.

Before the Day of Change, Heather loved to watch movies, preferable classic Hollywood era love stories. They were, she admitted, quite formulaic, and the one thing most of those movies had in common was a scene where the young lovers would see each other across the room, and the whole world slowed. Everyone else would melt away.

As Heather spotted Jake, she realized the movies had it all wrong. The world did not slow. If anything, it sped up. Everyone and everything was moving at lightning pace, only she wasn't. She simply couldn't get to him fast enough. Their eyes met, and she could see a smile cross his features, followed by his teeth grazing over his lips.

And everyone else was moving into her path.

"Oh, Heather, I see your young man is here," said Mrs. Franklin, who squeezed Heather's arm as she tried to walk past.

"Yes, and I'm very glad to see him." Heather stopped and replied politely, though she was aching to continue toward Jake.

The older lady's face crinkled as she smiled. "He even dressed up for you." It was true. Jake wasn't in his preferred blue jeans and t-shirt. Instead he wore dark slacks and a white, button-up shirt. "I think he's smitten."

"It goes both ways, Mrs. Franklin."

"Then what are you doing here talking to an old lady? Go see your beau!"

Heather laughed lightly and continued on her way toward Jake, who stood near the wall, away from the crowd. She had made it three-quarters of the way to him when Lucas McGee came into her path.

It had been three years since Heather had Lucas as student, but she'd always remember him for a variety of reasons. Back in the day, he was always so considerate to bring her special presents like frogs and spiders. She also remembered his fascination with super powers and how he thought Emily would develop them after she was struck with an electrical line. His imagination and wide-eyed innocence—just like the imaginations and innocence of all her school children—made her job such a joy. Yet perhaps what she remembered Lucas for the most was that he brought Jake Green into her life.

"Ms. Lisinski!" Each time she saw him, she could swear he had grown more. While he had lost some of his little boy chubbiness, he still looked like the same boy, only taller.

"Well, hello, Lucas. Are you having fun tonight?"

"I am. May I…may I have this dance?"

Heather was taken aback, but there was no way she would turn him down. He was looking up to her with big brown eyes behind his dark-rimmed glasses. Heather glanced at Jake who was watching the two of them. He inclined his head toward her as though to tell her to go ahead. Heather turned back to Lucas and replied with a smile, "I would be delighted."

If it wasn't surreal enough to be dancing with an eleven-year-old, the first few chords of a new song started, and Heather thought she would sink to the floor. In the planning stages of the social, the music had been a source of contention for some of the committee members, so how Billy Idol's "White Wedding" made it into the Valentine music mix had Heather perplexed at best and horrified at worst. She suspected that somewhere in the building, there was another battle about to ensue between Mrs. Allen and Mrs. Yates.

As she and Lucas danced, she would periodically spot Jake, arms crossed and smiling. He'd been joined by Stanley and Mimi Richmond. The Richmonds were expecting their first child, and Heather knew that ever since she and Jake started dating, Stanley had been pestering him about when he was going to settle down and have a family. Around New Year's, she and Jake had been out at the farm for a couple's night, and Stanley had broached the topic yet again declaring Jake needed to get busy if their children were going to grow up as best friends the way the two of them had.

_Jake turned to Heather, placed his hand on her knee giving it a gentle squeeze, and asked, "So when am I going to settle down?"_

_Heather hadn't really known how to respond to that, largely because she felt Jake was putting on a show for Stanley's benefit. They had danced around the topic of their future and certainly hadn't had that particular discussion yet. Truthfully, it had been something that gnawed at her. Maybe it was because of their past and how he'd been unable to go down that road with her before. "I think the real question is whether you can settle down." She'd said it glibly, but the shadow that crossed his face let her know it meant more to him than a joke._

_Stanley groaned. "Oh, man, I think she's got you nailed. Guess that answers the question for you, buddy."_

_When Jake took her home that night, they'd both been uncharacteristically quiet. He walked her to the front door, and they said their goodbyes, but there was a certain strain to their farewell. Heather had gone inside and started getting ready for bed, all the while cursing herself for allowing the conversation to take that turn. _

_But their past was complicated, and it all terrified her. She'd already taken a leap of faith by turning down the job in Columbus to stay in Jericho. What if things didn't work out? She'd been disappointed last time, but she also hadn't been so emotionally invested, not the way she was this time. The thought of not having him in her life…_

_A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She looked through the peephole and saw him standing there, looking absolutely miserable. Without hesitation, she opened the door, motioning him in and closing the door behind him. _

"_Jake-"_

"_Heather-"_

_They'd both spoken at once. "You first," she said._

"_I didn't want to leave things the way we left 'em." He stopped, did a double-take at the filmy nightgown she wore and exhaled loudly. "I thought you had flannel pajamas."_

"_I do," she replied, keenly aware of his admiring gaze, "but that's not all there is to me."_

"_I know." He shook his head slightly, realizing he wasn't articulating what he needed to articulate. She made him crazy. Really, she did. Crazy in a good way. The physical attraction was there, always had been. But it was more than that. She made him ache to be around her. He wanted to do things to make her happy, make her proud. That was a first for him in a relationship. Looking back, if he was truthful with himself, he realized that in so many relationships—not just romantic ones—he'd had the attitude of, 'This is who I am. You can take it or leave it.' But when she had said she didn't think he could settle down, he'd felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. He wanted her to trust him, and not just with her safety or to trust him in a bind, but he wanted her to trust him with her heart. And he had no idea of how to make that happen._

"_Jake, what I know is that the more time I spend with you, the more I want. I've spent most of my adult life being totally on my own, and that's okay. But the more I'm around you, the less okay that is. I just…I want to get this right."_

_He breathed a sigh of relief. "So do I." _

"_I'm glad we can agree on that."_

_He held out his hand, and she took it. Her hand felt like ice, so he immediately took the other and held both of her hands between his, trying to warm them. "What did you do? Construct an igloo tonight?" The long-running joke between them was she could make just about anything out of anything, though she was quick to point out that just as often as not, her good intentions were far better than the results._

"_I guess it is a little chilly in here," she conceded. "I was about to grab my robe and start a fire when you knocked. I'm kind of wishing I had those flannel pajamas on."_

"_I'm not," he replied as his eyes swept over her. The nightgown she wore left plenty to the imagination, but it also allowed him to glimpse her slender legs and arms, as well as the slightest hint of cleavage. "You are beautiful. But you're also cold. Go get that robe. I'll get a fire going."_

'_And try to put one out,' he added silently to himself._

_Within a few minutes, with a fire blazing in the living room fireplace, the two had settled on the floor next to one another, their backs against the sofa. "We should talk," he began. Even as he uttered the words, they sounded foreign coming from him. He'd always considered himself a man of action, not words, but he also got the sense that it was important for her to hear what he had to say._

"_Yeah, we should."_

"_Heather, I'm not always going to say the right things or do the right things. Sometimes I'm gonna piss you off."_

"_I know," she said with a smile._

"_And it's not easy for me to talk about feelings and stuff. I'm just not that guy."_

"_I know that, too."_

"_But I don't want another night to pass without me saying this. This isn't casual for me. I thought you knew. I'm falling in love with you."_

_Tears stung her eyes. "Wow."_

"_And Stanley was talking about us, our future, having kids…I spent so long not thinking of those things. With everything going on, the timing wasn't right. But now, when I look at you, I feel like the only thing holding me together is my skin. I want those things with you."_

_There. He'd put it all out there for her. He swallowed hard, hoping it wasn't too late, hoping it wasn't too soon._

"_I want those things, too. Maybe not on Stanley's timetable…" Her voice trailed off. "I love you, Jake. I have for a long time. Now with each passing day, it feels different. Stronger."_

"_And I do want to settle down with you. One day before too long, I'll prove it to you."_

The song ended as the opening notes of Tears for Fears' "Head Over Heels" piped over the speakers. That was more of a traditional love song. Heather smiled at the young boy, and she walked him back to his mother. The two women exchanged a few pleasantries, and Heather bragged on Lucas's dancing skills, which made him blush.

By the time Heather made her way to Jake, she felt as though she'd run the gauntlet. Immediately, her hand slid into his, and her heart quickened as she felt his thumb rubbing her palm. "Hey there," she said with a smile.

"Hey. You look beautiful." He leaned down, intending to give her a chaste kiss, but the kiss lingered a few seconds too long to fall into that category.

When they broke the kiss, Heather realized she hadn't even acknowledged the Richmonds. With a quick hug to greet each of them, she marveled, "I didn't think I'd be seeing you two tonight!"

"I didn't either," Stanley replied, "but I couldn't pass up the chance to show off my wife and baby-on-board."

"Oh?" Mimi replied giving him a sharp look. "That's not what you told me." She looked meaningfully to Jake. "Stanley told me he didn't think you'd ever set foot in here again. He had to see it for himself."

Heather looked to Jake, perplexed. "Why wouldn't you show up here?"

Jake shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was banned from the building."

Stanley grinned. "Yeah, Sheriff Green, what's the statute of limitations for that type of thing?"

"Not long enough," Jake replied with a wry grin.

"What did you _do_?" Heather asked.

"That's a long story…" Jake hedged.

"Heather!" Margaret Taylor's quick appearance behind her pushed aside the question. Margaret looked to the small group. "I'm really sorry, but I need you. Lisa Allen and Cindy Yates are battling it out in the kitchen over the music…"

"Third graders are so much easier to handle," Heather sighed. She kissed Jake on the cheek and added, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

When she returned to the gym after putting that proverbial fire out, Heather looked around for Jake but didn't see him anywhere. She hoped that he hadn't gotten fed up with her and decided to leave—or worse that there was some type of emergency.

She was still scanning the crowd when she saw Gail walking toward her. "Oh, Heather sweetie, Jake wanted me to tell you that he'll be back as soon as he can. Angie Sloan was having some kind of emergency at her house."

"I'll just bet she was," Heather muttered. Heather tried to like everyone, truly she did, but Angie Sloan had to be one of her least favorite people in town. When she worked as the liaison between Jericho and New Bern, Heather remembered all too well how Angie tried to insinuate herself into situations, mostly, Heather thought, to try to catch the attention of Edward Beck. Maybe it was petty of her to be annoyed by things that happened a couple of years ago, but Heather didn't like Angie's flamboyance then, and she certainly didn't appreciate it now. The woman tended to zero in on men of authority.

"You don't have anything to worry about. Trust me," Gail assured her. "She used to follow Johnston around like a puppy dog, too. Never mind that I used to babysit her."

"Oh my."

"It looks like everyone's having a good time tonight," Gail continued. "Everyone but you."

"To be honest with you, I think I bit off more than I could chew," Heather admitted. "I'm just not good at dealing with drama, and you wouldn't believe the fighting going on behind the scenes over really silly things."

"Oh, yes, I would," Gail laughed putting her arms around the younger woman. Over the years, she'd seen more than her share when she'd chaired committees or worked on special projects.

"It could be worse. At least they didn't get their hands on any sharp objects," Heather quipped.

"You hid them?" Gail asked.

Heather's brows shot up quickly before she settled into a passive expression. "So…Jake."

Gail could tell Heather wanted to ask her something. "What about him?"

"Is it true that he was banned from entering this place? I mean, it's a public school."

"Now _that's_ a story," Gail replied with a laugh, "and I doubt I even know all of it."

"Looks like I got back just in time."

Heather's heart quickened when she heard his voice, but when he placed his hand along the small of her back, she was convinced her heart would pound right out of her chest.

"That didn't take long," Gail commented.

"Jimmy's handling it," Jake replied.

"I'm sure Angie is thrilled." Heather's wry tone make Jake chuckle.

"Were you worried about me?"

"No…" her voice trailed off. "Not exactly." He gave her a knowing look. "Just really glad you're back. Maybe now, we can…"

The music stopped abruptly, cut short by a loud screech of the PA system. "Testing 1, 2, 3. Testing. Can you hear me out there?"

Heather's mouth gaped open and felt the blood drain from her face. Deville Sewter had commandeered the microphone. Heather looked to Jake, whose jaw was clenched tight and dark eyes were narrowed.

Harold Mittermeier and Angie Sloan may have been two of the many shared jokes between Jake and Heather, but Deville Sewter was not. Jake had taken to calling the man 'Devil,' though occasionally he also earned the names 'Satan,' 'Lucifer,' and 'Beelzebub' for the sake of variety. The man was a newer arrival to Jericho; he had initially come to oversee a construction crew as part of Jennings & Rall. The construction ended, but Sewter stayed, setting his sights on Gail Green, who was not receptive to his pursuits.

Deville Sewter's affection for Gail was something of an open secret in Jericho. Likewise, Jake's disapproval was also widely known. From the moment Jake met him, he'd been uneasy about the man. Maybe it was because he was too smooth, tried too hard, or was too present. Maybe it was because the man had a bad comb-over or just seemed smarmy, but Jake had taken to watching him like a hawk. Anytime Sewter started to zero in his mother, Jake intervened, sometimes enlisting Heather in his cause.

But this was a new one.

"What's he doing?" crowd members murmured.

"I guess you're wondering what I'm doing up here," Deville began. "Well, it's nearly Valentine's Day. Time to reflect on those you love, those you admire, and there's a special lady here tonight—"

Gail's hand flew to her forehead. "Please tell me he's not going to do what I think he is."

"Oh my," Heather sighed. She turned to look at Jake, but he was already taking off toward Sewter.

* * *

"Good turnout tonight."

Despite the craziness of the night, Heather couldn't stop the smile that spread across her features when she heard Jake's voice. It had become an involuntary reaction when he was near. She glanced over her shoulder from where she stood at the sink of the school kitchen to see him standing in the doorway, felt her breath catch, and then turned her body to face him. "I thought it was, and people seemed to have fun."

The corners of Jake's mouth turned upward in that half-smile she had grown to know so well. "Even if I did scare the hell out of Deville Sewter?"

"Even so. Look on the bright side. I don't think he'll be trying anything like that again anytime soon. But all in all, I'm so glad the reluctant Sheriff Green could make it tonight."

"Guess you could say I was compelled."

Heather reached for a dish towel, dried her hands, and leaned back against the cabinetry, watching him. Jake ambled further into the kitchen with a casualness that only fueled her anticipation for him, for what was to come. Despite the near giddiness building within her that the evening was nearly over, that they would finally have some time alone, she tried to maintain her cool.

"Hmmm. And _who_ could compel the very handsome, very brave, and _very_ headstrong sheriff to venture out into the world of pink and red hearts?"

Jake walked slowly toward her, sliding his hand along the edge of the work table. All evening he'd wanted to be close to her, but with Heather scurrying around to make sure the social was a success, coupled with his own distractions, there had been little time to be alone. A snatched moment here. A stolen moment there. And now that he was close? He just wanted to savor every moment, every smile, every glance. "Don't forget the naked, winged babies with bows and arrows. I was taking my life into my own hands coming here tonight."

"Says the man who's dodged bullets and punches."

She smiled as the distance between them was closed. He leaned against the cabinet himself, one arm on either side of her caging her in, but not yet touching her.

"But who just can't—_won't_—dodge _you_. I think you know who compels me." His nearness sent a sensation of utter exhilaration through her.

Without another word, he caressed her cheek with the tips of his fingers, and covered her lips with his own. He could feel her sigh against him, and she parted her lips slightly, her breath warm and sweet like fruit punch. Jake tasted her, letting himself be filled by her essence. The kiss, though, remained light, innocent. As much as he wanted to sink his tongue into her for a fuller taste, this was not the time or place for what he craved. Finally, when he no longer trusted himself to keep it simple and innocent, he slowly pulled away.

His eyes locked on hers, and he could see the look of wonder on her face and felt it must mirror his own.

How many times had they kissed in the last few months? Hundreds? Thousands? It would never be enough. He'd known that since the first night they'd reconnected, the night before Thanksgiving when he'd walked her home. Enough time had passed that they had even joked about how they'd crashed and burned the last time they had tried being more than friends. When it came time to say goodnight, neither had wanted to utter those words. So instead, they spent the night talking, drinking weak coffee, and laughing. And ever since that night, they hadn't spent a whole day apart.

And now? He could look at her and see his future standing before him, and his future had beautiful blue eyes and an even more beautiful heart.

He reached down, took her small hand, and squeezed it gently. "I love you."

"I love _you_."

"I'd been wanting to kiss you again all night," he admitted. "Made coming to this worthwhile."

"So _I _compelled you to come here tonight." The proud tone of her voice made Jake chuckle.

"Definitely you. The fruit punch wasn't even spiked."

Heather laughed. "We're at a community social with little kids and the elderly! You don't spike the punch at the high school!"

Jake looked around at their surroundings. If not for her, there was no way he would've stepped foot inside the building, but helping with this was important to her, having that sense of community. Him? He'd just as soon have that sense of community at Bailey's Tavern, but trying to get the community back to a sense of normalcy was partly what she'd dedicated her time to. She'd even turned down a job in the Charles Administration to stay in Jericho, teach half the day, and spend the other half doing whatever needed doing. "It's been done before," he smirked.

Heather's eyes widened, realizing he was telling on himself. "You were awful! How did your mom ever survive raising you?" But even through her chastisement, she laughed.

"Because she didn't know the half of it," he smirked.

"Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

He leaned down, his forehead against hers. "I can think of other ways to be blissful." His rich, velvety voice tickled the delicate shell of her ear, causing her heart skip a beat. She loved being close to him. She also just plain loved him. But she also knew the physical aspect of their relationship hadn't progressed as far as he might have preferred. Through it all, Jake had been very patient.

Early on when they began seeing each other again, Heather had made it clear that she wanted them to get it right, though each had different opinions about what that meant. She felt emotional intimacy was the key to a lasting relationship, and the physical intimacy would come about as progression of the emotions. This was a new approach for Jake, who didn't find the need for an emotional bond in order to have sex. He assured Heather this wasn't a casual fling for him, and while this approach was not what he was accustomed to, he secretly thought he would have agreed to just about anything she asked of him.

And so Jake took his cues from her. Their kisses had started as mostly short, mostly sweet. A goodnight. A hello. She would stand on her tip-toes when he walked her to the door and lightly press her lips to his. He would lean down for his favorite greeting when she'd meet him for lunch at Bailey's.

They'd graduated from there to longer, deeper kisses with full body contact. The first had come as they stood under the mistletoe at his mom's house a week before Christmas. He'd expected it to be a short, mostly sweet kiss, but when Heather had balled his shirt with her fists and pulled him closer, the kiss turned long, hot, and there was nothing sweet about what she made him feel. For her part, Heather had started to regret the talk about taking things slow. There was slow, and then there was s-l-o-o-o-w. Spurred by some liquid courage, she staked her claim on him under the mistletoe at the Green Christmas Party, much to the amusement of those around them and to the dismay of Angie Sloan, who'd had designs on him herself.

In the days that followed, alone together at her house, when she began to explore his clothed body with her hands, he'd begun to do the same to her, feeling her soft curves, letting his touches linger around her hips, her thighs, her breasts. In the process, he'd discovered she was ticklish in some areas. And with an opportunity too good to pass up, he'd mercilessly trapped her on the sofa, tickling her until, in absolute desperation, she'd pulled him atop her and begged for mercy. Their limbs wrapped around one another, neither one feeling merciful while their kisses were searing and intense, and Heather had found herself arching against him, feeling his desire for her, so close but not close enough. She could spend hours wrapped up in him, and she had.

When her hands began to find their way under his clothes, he'd begun to find it exceedingly difficult to not press her for more when all he wanted to do was bury himself in her. It had gotten to the point where he would sometimes call for a time-out, despite her greedy protests. They would focus their attention on a project to cut through the sexual tension. It would amaze her that when she worked with him, even the most mundane job seemed exciting. Likewise, it astounded him how when he worked with her, the hours seemed to pass like minutes.

And his patience only made her anticipate what was to come even more. As far as she was concerned, it wasn't a matter of if but _when_.

But it wasn't just the lovemaking they both anticipated. They also talked about what it would be like when they got married and when they had a family. It was a very different world in which they were living than the one they'd known only a few years before. The challenges would be more difficult, but she found herself looking forward to meeting those challenges with him by her side.

For now, though, they were in a holding pattern. They had been for the last several days as she was roped into helping with the Valentine social due to the illness of Mrs. Carmichael and between her job, his job, and the preparations for the event, they'd had very little alone time.

This particular evening had been torturous for them both, though they affected all the expected pleasantries. Not that they didn't enjoy being around their friends and neighbors, but every time they would catch a moment together, someone approached them to visit, or Heather was needed to help pull more refreshments from the kitchen or put out some other proverbial fire. Simply put, he felt starved for her, and she for him.

And now, with Jake so close, his words so alluring, Heather felt like she could barely breathe without going breathless.

She hooked her fingers in the waist of his pants, fiddling with a belt loop with her thumb. "You are making it so hard to behave!"

He shot her a look, as though to say, '_Your point?'_

"There are still people out there! If they were to come in here and see us…" Her words trailed off when he began nuzzling her neck.

"They'd know you can't keep your hands off me," he teased.

"Hah."

He looked down. "Well, you're the one with your hands in my pants."

"Fingers," she replied pulling them out.

"Same difference."

"_Big _difference," she countered.

"What am I going to do with you?" His voice was low, husky.

"Kiss me."

He smiled at her contradictory words and acquiesced to her command. Anchoring himself to her by placing his hands around her waist, he brushed his lips against hers, drawing back, and going in for more. He was teasing her, he realized, but he couldn't afford to let things get out of hand.

When he stepped back, she felt the loss of his warmth and nearness jar her back to her surroundings. "I…I should finish washing these dishes."

"I'll wash. You rinse," he offered.

"That's very nice of you."

His eyebrow shot up. "Yeah, there's nothing nice about it. Sooner you get done here, the sooner I get you to myself."

"Barring any crises."

"No trouble tonight. I told Jimmy to handle whatever else comes up."

Her response came out as a happy sigh. "Music to my ears."

The two settled into a steady routine, making short work of the dishes. Heather had already scraped the plates, so Jake dunked them in the hot, soapy water, scrubbed off any food particles she had missed, and passed them to her to rinse with the spray nozzle. Occasionally, he would bump her hip, knocking her slightly off balance, playing it off as an accident. Yet if his laugh hadn't been a dead giveaway, his loud, exaggerated announcement of "Ooops!" that preceded each bump on the hip, certainly was.

A few people filtered in and out of the kitchen, bringing more plates and silverware, earning Jake and Heather stares as they acted more like teenagers than grownups.

Finally, Heather was rinsing the last dish that Jake washed when, from the corner of her eye, she glimpsed some motion. When she turned her head to see what Jake was doing, she was stunned to find him down on one knee looking up at her. "Tomorrow will be our first Valentine's Day together, and I know this is really sudden, but I have an important question to ask you."

Heather's eyes widened. They'd been talking about this moment, but she thought he'd said Valentine's Day was too obvious, that he wanted the timing to be a surprise. It didn't matter. The answer was yes. _Yes_. "Oh my goodness. Jake—"

"Don't you think those Cupid cut-outs the decorating committee used were a little creepy?" And then he proceeded to retie his boot.

"Jake Green!" she gasped as he laughed. "You are going to pay for that!" With the spray nozzle still in her hand, she squeezed the trigger, showering him with water.

Still laughing, Jake tried to wrestle the nozzle from her. With his longer arms and superior strength, he had little trouble turning the spray of water on her. Water drenching her, she reached behind herself and shut off the water supply.

They stood for a moment, water dripping from their hair, their skin, their clothes, though Heather bore the brunt of the soaking. Jake saw Heather's eyes shift, but before he could do anything about it, she cupped water and soap suds from the dishwater, and doused him. He tried to move back, lost his footing, and down he went on the linoleum floor. She thought she heard a rip.

Between stifled giggles, she leaned over him and asked, "Are you…are you all right down there?"

"Help me up," he replied holding up his hand.

"Uh, no. I'm not falling for that!"

He sat up, propping himself with his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"If I give you my hand, you're just going to pull me down there with you."

"Would I do that to you?"

"Yes."

"You're right." And with that, he lunged forward, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her down on top of him. Though if Heather had been cornered, she would have admitted that she didn't put up too much of a fight.

And so Jake Green and Heather Lisinski were soaking wet, lying in a huge puddle of water on the floor, laughing.

"I think I split my pants when I fell," Jake groaned.

She poked his ribs. "Serves you right."

"Oh, the cruelty!"

"That's right." Using her hands to support her, she pushed up, hovering over him. She planted tiny kisses along his jaw line and could feel his body responding to her innocent touches. "So what're you going to do about it?" she challenged.

"I'm gonna marry you."

Had she heard him right? She drew back, sitting on the floor next to him. "Wh-what?"

He sat up and reached over to touch her, his hand resting on her thigh. "Marry me, Heather."

"Oh, Jake." Her forehead creased with worry. "I don't think I can give you an answer…until I tie my shoe."

* * *

In the hours that followed, Jake discovered he had, indeed, split his pants. But later at Heather's house, with their clothes hanging in front of the fire in the living room to dry and the occupants of the house busy in an altogether different room, it turned out they weren't really needed.

After all, it hadn't been a matter of if, but a matter of when.

_When_ had arrived.


End file.
